


Deliberate Suspension

by sequence_fairy



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 18:11:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5385512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inactivity breeds self-loathing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deliberate Suspension

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tripwirealarm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tripwirealarm/gifts).



> This was written as a birthday present for one of my favourite authors, ever.

And it’s dark inside the TARDIS, but not the kind of dark that means she’s offline, more the kind of dark that means she’s resting, or charging, or something to do with rejuvenating. Whatever it is that TARDIS’ do when they need a nap. It’s so quiet, he’s almost afraid to make a sound, and so he trips over a pile of tools near the console, stubs his toe on the grating and then drops a spanner while hopping on his uninjured foot. There’s a petulant noise in the back of his mind, and the Doctor hisses an apology through his teeth. 

He sinks into the jump seat and pulls off his shoe and sock to examine his foot. Bends his toe this way and that to make sure it’s not damaged, and then wiggles all five experimentally in the cool air of the console room. Nothing amiss. He tugs his sock back on and unties and then puts his shoe back on. 

It’s still quiet. And he’s bored. He’s been bored for _weeks_. Bored since Martha left. Bored since he realised what an ass he’d been to her. Bored since he realised that saving some planet alone is not nearly as fun as it is with someone to do it with. 

And now the TARDIS has decided she needs to shut down and do some repairs that he can’t be trusted with, and so he’s bored and he’s frustrated and it’s seeping into some good old fashioned self-loathing, now that he’s thinking about Martha. Which leads him to thinking about Rose. Because everything leads back to Rose. 

All roads lead to Rose. Hah. He’s still funny. Except not really, because there’s no one here to laugh about that with and isn’t that just wizard. Story of his thrice-damned life. Everyone of them, they all leave in the end. He drops his head back to stare at the ceiling of the console room. Wonders for a moment if there are cobwebs up there before deciding that the TARDIS probably keeps that clean. 

And oh, what was he thinking about? Right. Rose. 

Gods, but he misses her. He’s gotten maudlin in his old age he supposes, getting teary-eyed over losing a companion. But she was more than that wasn’t she, a nasty voice whispers in the back of his mind, more than just a ‘ _companion_ ’. If he’s honest with himself, which is something he tries less and less to be, because all it does is hurt, he probably does love her. Did love her. Will always love her. 

Which is what it comes down to, isn’t it? That he’d dared, for one brief - alright, like ten - brief, and shining moments to hold her close and love her properly. Like she wanted, like she _deserved_. And now he’s here, alone, in his dark ship, and she’s gone, and it’s utterly impossible to get her back. At least he has the memories, those golden moments suffused with the warmth of her smile and the taste of her kisses and the feel of her mind, wrapped around his as they hit the peak and tumbled over it together. 

He shakes his head to clear it. Not today. Not now. Not yet. Someday though, someday, he might be able to live in those memories. Until then, things to be done! Or rather, things to wait for. 

And so he sits, and waits, in his quiet ship, on a quiet planet, in a quiet corner of the universe.


End file.
